The Strange Musketeer
by Lancelotlaureate
Summary: Three strangers emerge in the woods as if by magic and d'Artagnan wonders if the man called Ian really is the musketeer he claims to be. (Inspired by the recent TV series 'The Musketeers' but the musketeers in this story are general combined versions of the characters from various sources)


Prologue

"How do you know it's the 17th century out there?" Ian asked as he paced the TARDIS wardrobe anxiously. "And if it is, are we sure we want to risk what could be out there?"

The Doctor scoffed as he admired himself in one of the many mirrors that were present around the wardrobe room. "Honestly Chesterton where's your enthusiasm? The readings are suggesting it is the 17th century and somewhere in the region of France, but we must take a look around to make sure, after all we wouldn't want to leave before we're certain we're not in your time."

"I can't believe we're in France again," Barbara said as she adjusted her long dress in front of one of the mirrors. "But it's a good idea to wear these clothes in case we do need to blend in."

Ian smirked as he moved from behind a dressing screen and revealed his fancy and fine tunic, tights and boots. "And what if it isn't the 17 century? What if it's 1963 and I walk out the doors dressed like some sort of strutting French peacock?"

"I think you look marvellous, like a real musketeer," Barbara told him.

Ian took a bow and kissed her hand. "Thank you mademoiselle. But Doctor, done up like this, what if I'm mistaken for the real thing?"

The Doctor laughed loudly, clutching his stomach as he did so. "My dear boy, you have quite an imagination and my goodness don't you go on and on and on. We'll only be outside for a few moments, no time at all to get into trouble."

Ian and Barbara exchanged unconvinced glances. They knew the old Doctor too well and they knew wherever the Doctor was, trouble wasn't far behind.

"Well, come along, come along."

…

I am d'Artagnan and I tell a story of the day we met the strange musketeer and of a time when like magic we were graced with the presence of those we did not understand. In many adventures with allies or foes, we had never encountered anything as magnificently strange as the time these travellers came to call. I was part of a band of men we called the musketeers, but these people too had their own bonded unit, a duty of protection toward one another and that was something I admired for a long time afterward. We didn't speak of them beyond that day, but the memory lives on in our minds, untainted by the mundane experiences that we would not remember.

When they appeared it was therefore as if the strangers had come out from the shadows though there were none around us at the time. They were three unknown faces to me- but one, a man, was a musketeer, dressed in the same blue tunic we all wore which was delicately embroidered with the white cross in the centre.

The ambush from another group of strangers happened quickly and there was barely enough time to react to both the attackers and the three people who we had seen emerge through the trees. Accessing the situation, Athos called out that we were outnumbered, and within moments the strange man dressed as a musketeer was by my side advising me which way to move to avoid a killing blow. He held no weapon but used his fists in combat as if by second nature- akin to the way Aramis used his musket, and Athos his sword.

We were fighting our unknown assailants for what felt like a few minutes, with the strange musketeer ducking and diving from blows of the swords coming in his direction. My friend Porthos was in front of him, guarding him, fighting several men off from our location with a ferocious swoop of his own sword.

Myself and Aramis searched for the young lady and the old man who had been with us when they had first appeared as if by magic in the forest. I spied the young lady first, she was hiding behind a tree and I signalled for her to stay where she was. She was wildly sceptical of me- I could tell that, even from her expression which was scowling and unsure of my command and I could see she was very concerned for the welfare of her companions but she nodded that she would stay out of sight until it was safe to do so.

Next I spied the old man cowering behind a boulder and I saw a tall figure close in on him. The brutish man's hands outstretched towards that of this thin and pale creature that resembled a wizard. The attacker pulled a sword from his scabbard and lunged forward and I guessed that the old wizard would not have a conjuring trick to get out of his predicament.

"Stop this!" the old man yelled as he dodged the blade. I wondered what good it would do to be diplomatic.

Aramis was at his aid immediately but his advance was costly. In contrast to my thoughts, Aramis attempted diplomacy, his hands held in front of him in order to negotiate terms but the man lunged forward toward him and swung his sword sharply, striking him full force on the shoulder and sending him to the floor with a thud. It was at that moment I saw the woman leap from her location behind the trees and rush over to help, disobeying my instructions. As I moved swiftly to follow her, the villain grabbed the wizard with white hair, holding the sword across his throat.

It was then without warning that a new but small group of cloaked men emerged from the trees, grabbing the struggling old man, and slinging him over the back of a horse as if he were nothing more than baggage. The men rode off through the trees with Porthos and Athos attempting chase, but giving up when they realised it was impossible.

The young lady looked extremely concerned for the old man, her faced lined with worry for his safety, but she also displayed an expression of compassion for Aramis who lay injured on the ground and bleeding heavily- the red dripping from his shoulder wound like spilt wine slowly trickling down a staircase.

In the fight we lost two of our men. They had never stood a chance, attacked before we even had the opportunity to react. And they were new to our ranks, young too, just as I was. I looked down at them lying on the floor and thought for a moment, wondering how very close I too came to death. I didn't dwell on it often but just on occasion, when the mood was that of sadness, I took a moment to consider how lucky I was, how easy it would be for the roles to be reversed and for my lifeless body to lay on the ground instead.

Porthos threw his sword down in passionate frustration as Athos attempted to hold his arms down to calm him but with the old man kidnapped, and two of our musketeers dead, we needed to ask questions and get some answers quickly.

Before we had time to access the situation- the man and woman embraced in front of us, not at all concerned for our prying eyes gazing upon them like they were part of a performance act. They smiled at one another for a few moments, taking in everything about each other and they seemed to revel in the notion that they were alive and breathing. But there was fear on their faces.

"Oh Ian," the woman said shakily, trying to get her breath back. "They've taken the Doctor."

The man slid his arm around her shoulder and comforted her. "I know, I know." He spoke gently, and his voice was calming. The way he stood however told a different story. He was rigid and upright, his fists tensed up into ball shapes.

We looked at one another, the musketeers and I, and we stood in a semi-circle around the embracing couple. It looked as though we were their protectors.

"Are we to believe that this ambush is anything to do with you?" said Athos calmly as he watched Porthos and myself move the groaning Aramis into a comfortable position to examine his wound.

"We have nothing to do with it," the lady told us firmly. "We arrived here just at this moment. Why would we know who took the Doctor, he's our friend?"

Porthos frowned. "The old man is a doctor?" He grumbled as he put pressure onto Aramis' shoulder with a piece of material torn from his own tunic. "What a shame he got kidnapped then." He looked at me and signalled that we should get Aramis some help.

I approached the two strangers carefully and held out my hands gently as not to appear threatening in any way. "You are a musketeer?" I asked the man, staring down at the familiar clothes he wore. "Thank you for your help, you proved yourself brave without a weapon."

The man smiled briefly and shook my hand. "I saw men attacking you. I just did what anyone one would do. Right now all I care about is getting our friend back."

…

Athos and Porthos led the way carrying Aramis to the nearby trail which led to an old farmhouse set back off the road. I followed up the rear, looking behind every few paces to make sure we weren't being watched. The strange musketeer and the woman stayed in the centre of the group and it was with chilly silence that we made our journey to the safety of the little house.

To say I was not suspicious of the man and woman was a lie. I was partly unsure of why they had made a sudden appearance at our location but regardless of the uncertainty of their credentials, I had seen the woman fly into danger to protect an old man and I had seen this strange musketeer rush to our aid as only a musketeer should. But why had the ambush only happened moments after they had arrived and why wouldn't we know this new musketeer?

"I believe introductions are in order," Athos said plainly as we moved slowly across the uneven pathway. "I am Athos." He pointed towards us. "This is Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan. We are musketeers of the king but I guess you must already know that."

The strange musketeer stepped forward. "I'm Ian and this is Barbara. I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure what happened here, it all happened so fast."

"You are a musketeer though?" Porthos questioned suspiciously, eying the man's clothes the way I had done moments earlier.

He wore the uniform of a musketeer yet there was something about the way he acted which contradicted this. He seemed uncomfortable in the uniform, embarrassed even. When we became musketeers we were proud of our titles and in turn proud of the uniform we wore and the honour it brought us.

Ian's reply was interrupted by the lady Barbara who nudged him. "Yes, he is Ian de Chesterville, recently trained and sent here by the captain."

"Treville sent you?" Porthos said.

"We were on our way to Paris now, ready for Ian to begin as one of your men."

Ian glanced at Barbara and there was something strange about the way they looked at one another. The man looked at her in the way I'd looked at many a young lady, and I wondered if there was something more to their relationship though they didn't announce that they were anything more than friends.

"And Barbara, how do you fit into all of this?" I asked.

She took a moment to respond and I wondered whether she was trying to think of a lie. "I was looking after the old gentleman, Ian's father. I'm a family friend, you see."

She spoke gently and well. She was clearly educated and intelligent and also a woman of means but in experience that didn't mean she couldn't be the greatest liar of them all.

"We need to get…the…my father back," Ian said with hesitation, spluttering over his words. "I have no idea where they'd take him."

There was a whimper from Aramis who was now resting by the farmhouse entrance. "If we could have this conversation after I've stopped bleeding to death."

A woman and her husband greeted us at the doorway of the farm, and seeing our injured comrade, they let us into their home where they fetched some ointments, a bowl of water and some more fabrics to clean and dress Aramis' wound. What surprised me was the attention the two strangers Ian and Barbara put to my friend's injury as they were by his side tending to him immediately as if by second nature. They had to be trained medics of some kind I concluded, for the man Ian, spouted off many words I didn't understand as though they were experts in the field of medicine. Perhaps he took after his father, this Doctor fellow, and perhaps they even assisted in operations before. It seemed by the level of care from Barbara that she was maybe a nurse.

"Now, what about the Doctor?" Ian said firmly. The man was like that frequently, forward and demanding, not afraid to put his views across and his ideas to the group. He was a tall, handsome and brave figure but there was something about him I didn't trust.

"Why do you call your father, 'Doctor'?" I asked.

Ian looked at Barbara again as if for permission. If a telepathic language were to exist, I would think the two would use it.

"I tend to not want to announce his relationship to me, my father…that is, the Doctor is a very renowned scientist and it is easy for him to become a target."

"You think he was taken for these reasons you suggest?" asked Athos.

"It's normally the reason," Barbara replied.

"He's been kidnapped before?" said Porthos with surprise.

"One or two times, but usually he finds his way back to us somehow. You'd be surprised how sprightly he can be. I'm sorry Aramis that you're injured, I feel responsible somehow."

Aramis took her hand and kissed it tenderly. This action clearly prompted a response from Ian as I saw his right eyebrow rise ever so slightly in surprise. Was there a hint of jealousy there in the idea that Aramis showed her some attention?

Aramis looked deeply into her eyes and spoke gently with his rich soothing voice that he tended to use when he was talking to women. "It's not your fault Barbara that there is evil all around us. You did what you had to do, just as we do for our king and countrymen."

"Yes, well whatever the reason for your doctor's kidnap," Athos said as he circled the room impatiently. "I shall like to find these men for myself. They ambushed and tried to kill us where we stood. It's just lucky we were stronger than they were."

"I'd like to get my hands on them too," Porthos said. "We lost two musketeers of our own in that fight."

"Revenge is never the answer," Barbara said, and it was with an uncanny synchronisation that we musketeers turned to look at her.

"You may well be right," said Athos. "But to uphold the law, that is another matter."

"Can we set off immediately?" Ian said, looking at Athos in particular. I could tell this Ian fellow was an impatient sort, reminding me of myself when I had first met my friends.

Athos nodded in agreement, but looked at Ian with examining eyes before he responded. "I suppose it is the wisest course, though Aramis I'm not sure you are well enough to travel."

Aramis attempted to stand and Barbara was at his side immediately to assist him as he pretended he was not in as much pain as he clearly was.

"I'm not staying behind to be nursed," he said looking at Barbara and at the woman who lived in the farmhouse who bought us some water and food. "I hope I did not cause offence, but I need to ride out with my men."

"I understand, but I'm coming too," Barbara said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I added. I hated the thought of a civilian, especially a young woman, succumbing to injury under my care. "It'll be very dangerous."

"I'd rather Barbara came with us," Ian said. "We stick together. All for one… and one for all?"

He looked at Barbara and the two strangers were smirking slightly, but I didn't understand what had been so funny with the words he had used.

"Alright you can come, but let's get on with it as fast as we can, no delay," Porthos said.

…

We wasted no time in heading back into the woods where the ambush had occurred. Athos and Porthos led the way with Barbara helping Aramis onto the horse. She held the reigns whilst he wearily placed his arms around her waist before setting off and she seemed to be a competent enough rider though a little shaky and cautious. Ian climbed onto my horse and sat behind me.

"I'm grateful for this d'Artagnan," he said as the horse trotted away. "I know we must seem slightly odd to you but we really appreciate the help."

"I'm only doing what I think is right."

"Can I just ask you, are you really d'Artagnan?"

I didn't understand why he asked and attempted a glance back at him. "I am. But you've heard of me, you're a musketeer, why would you be surprised?"

"I believe there is a noble character called d'Artagnan and I suppose I never expected to meet him in person."

"I don't understand what you mean."

He hesitated. "I just meant you're quite famous and it's almost like I didn't expect you to be real, any of you- the famous musketeers."

"And you are now one yourself? It must seem very real."

"It's sinking in, I'll give you that."

…

We rode to our previous location to investigate the area where we had been ambushed earlier that day. There was blood on the ground where our two musketeers had fallen and where four enemies had also died at our hands. We stopped quiet for a few moments to remember our friends in a minute of contemplation and then Athos and Porthos approached the bodies of our enemies that lay upon the ground, lifeless and cold. Porthos searched one of them and took his dagger. He then peered down at the blood-soaked fabric of the man's tunic. "I don't recognise the clothing."

Athos touched another man's face and then pushed it away. "And they're not going to do much talking."

Ian sighed with frustration. "There must be some horse tracks or something."

"They rode off in that direction," Barbara added as she pointed to the right. "I saw that at least. Wait a minute." She thought for a moment or two, looking out onto the horizon. "I saw something when we were being attacked."

I asked her what she saw.

"One of the men on the horses had an emblem on his cloak. It was red and yellow with a sort of eagle figure."

I exchanged glances with Aramis and for a moment we too had our own unspoken language. "The Eagle-men."

"The Eagle-men, who are they?" Ian asked.

"Guessing you've still got a lot to learn," Porthos said. "The Eagle-men are nothing but vigilantes. They despise us for our protection of the monarchy and they blame us for the civilian lives lost, even though protecting France is our prime directive."

Aramis continued. "They believe we are responsible for many innocent lives lost. Last year their organisation launched an assault on some of the king's men. There have been smaller revolts since but none that have made a grand impact."

"So it's likely the Doctor was taken for what, some kind of ransom, to meet a demand?" Ian said.

"Their demands will not be met," Athos said plainly, rubbing his hands together. "Instead they'll get an attack and like it. We will free your old man and we will aim for as little bloodshed as possible."

"Are any of the accusations against the musketeers true?" Ian said.

We stared at him, dumfounded at his statement. "You think the musketeers put ordinary lives in danger just to protect the king?" I asked him. "We will always protect the king but that doesn't mean we let others suffer. And outside threats always mean there are casualties."

Barbara paced forward, almost as if trying to plead with me. "We're not saying you're responsible, not at all. We're just trying to imagine what state of mind these people have. They've kidnapped the Doctor and we need to know what kind of danger he's in. He has a strong mind, but his body can't quite catch up with it."

Porthos glanced in my direction. I could tell he wasn't quite convinced with Ian and Barbara's opinions and lack of knowledge of musketeer life and what it entailed, but I also knew Porthos and knew that he cared about the little people, and while he was aware that an old man was being mistreated, he would aid the situation in any way he could.

"Well, in my opinion we get moving as fast as we can." Porthos placed his sword back into his scabbard and marched with determined fury to his horse. He looked back when he realised no one was following him. "Are you coming or not?"

…

Despite the quest and the fact we were always ready and alert for surprise attacks, the ride across the countryside was pleasant and the landscape was beautiful, and often whilst riding I found myself drawn to the majesty of mother earth. We decamped after a while as Ian and Barbara were noticeably tired, of course they denied this but Aramis insisted they rest, besides it was also time to re-dress Aramis' wound.

We set up camp by the river and Ian and Barbara sat very close to one another, their shoulders making gentle contact and their hands close on the grass ready to reach out should trouble present itself. Watching them, I realised I longed to sit close to a lady in such a romantic way but had rarely the opportunity to be so familiar and rarely the time either. Aramis sat next to Barbara on the other side and let her tend to his wound whilst I sat and observed as Porthos collected the water and Athos sat alone as he always did, deep in memory of something that haunted him, though he never told us his past.

"Well the view is breathtaking," said Barbara as she gazed into the distance, looking at the stream as the water trickled gently across the rocks and pebbles. Her wide, excited eyes were a pea green colour and they were large and inviting. Her eyelashes fluttered when she spoke, rapidly as she blinked. She certainly was a beautiful woman. I wasn't attracted to her in some romantic sense, but there was something about her that drew you in like a fly to a flame. Ian too was intriguing, he was tall and handsome with bright blue eyes that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight and I imagined he was very popular with the women. If he really was a musketeer, I concluded Aramis would have some competition in Paris.

"Have you not travelled this way before?" I asked.

"Not quite." There was another quick glance from Barbara to Ian- more of that unspoken language.

"Well we've not been here long," Ian said. "We come from elsewhere, another place entirely. It was busy and noisy."

"The king's palace is noisy too," Porthos said as he returned with the water and handed it out. "What town could possibly be busier and noisier than Paris?"

The man, Ian, looked away from Porthos and instead glanced at the horizon. "Just lots of people, lots of life, lots of temperamental weather."

"But you miss your previous life?" Athos said as his interest finally piqued. For Athos I suspected this held some meaning but in truth it probably held some meaning for all of us.

"I miss it very much," Barbara said as she discreetly squeezed Ian's hand. Although we were chasing men called eagles, I watched the strangers like a hawk, ready to unearth any untruths they concealed.

…

It felt like we were riding for hours when the second attack happened. Athos was the first to hear approaching horses and raised his gloved hand in commanding gesture. Our group fell immediately silent and we surveyed our surroundings looking for the direction of the noise that Athos had heard. The bandits arrived through the south facing trees and before we'd had chance to strategise, Porthos was off his horse immediately, right in the front, using himself as a human shield. He fought off two bandits in the time the rest of us had joined him.

Aramis flew straight into one-armed combat whilst his injured arm almost had a life of its own in trying to keep back Barbara. I could see from his expression that Aramis was in a lot of pain but a musketeer bared it.

Myself and Ian took place near several bandits to the rear. The attackers looked like ordinary thieves and not any kind of excellent organisation skilled at combat so we guessed they were not in connection to our previous enemies. I assumed these thieves were uncertain we were musketeers and had jumped out at us by chance rather than intention, so I did not feel much anxiety that they had any real power over us. Ian however looked terrified and his hand trembled as he stood behind me. He was weapon-less so I slipped him a musket whilst I took the sword. When he held the musket as though he'd never held one before, I was surprised, not quite understanding his reaction to it.

"Ian, what's wrong? Just use it, man!"

Ian finally nodded in agreement and aimed the gun as best he could but I could see he was having trouble pulling the trigger, whether through simply not knowing, or whether through not wanting to kill, I wasn't sure. When he finally did manage it, he missed his target by inches and I wondered for a moment if it was intentional. He might be a good shot but clearly untrained, out of practice and his emotions clearly ruled his fighting in the way mine had done when I had first become a musketeer, either that or he was simply pretending.

My suspicions to his identity were now called into serious question but there was little time to worry about such things. Just as I was about to run for one of the bandits, I was startled as someone jumped on me from behind, hurtling me onto the floor and landing upon my legs. As I struggled, angered and irritated that I'd not seen my attacker, I saw the silver blade of the sword circling my head. I kicked at his legs but it didn't deter him. I next tried to reach for my dagger, ready to plunge it into his thigh but he stopped me, grabbed my hands and twisted them painfully. I looked over to the other musketeers for assistance but Athos was fighting three men whilst Porthos himself was fighting off two, and Aramis was fighting one single man whilst trying to shoot another with his injured arm. These bandits were better fighters than I'd given them credit for. I had to learn to not take everything at face value.

Barbara stood back slightly, whispering directions at the musketeers as she kept watch from safety, trying to aid them as best as she could from the shadows. I gulped and I prayed. Was I to die here, not in some grand tournament or war but by common thieves?

It was as if in slow motion that I saw the hint of blue from the corner of my eye and the strange musketeer Ian appear as if by magic. Ian ran up to the bandit and calmly without any kind of hesitation or aggression, simply placed his thumb upon the back of the thief's neck. The man fell to the floor instantly as soon as he had been touched. I had seen Ian defeat a desperate thief by only using his thumb. I then watched as Barbara joined him as they tied the man up with some rope.

I gulped and tried to catch my breath, trying to comprehend what had happened. From my position on the ground, I looked up, dazed and slightly disorientated and I could see that Ian was tall above me, standing straight and dignified as only a hero should. Next to him stood Barbara and together the two of them were almost shrouded in a misty aura, like two guardian angels sent at that moment to protect me. Their hands both outstretched towards me and I was pulled to safety.

These strangers were such an enigma to me. How could one so hesitant at some things be so courageous at others? Who was this lady who seemed to possess knowledge about us as if she had studied us from a book?

…

Hours had passed since the second attack and the bandits were either dead or had managed to flee into the forest like cowards. We rested for a while and Ian and Barbara were seated together again, never seeming to stray from each others side unless parted by chance. I carefully shuffled closer to them and listened to what they were saying- trying not to make it obvious I was eavesdropping.

Ian spoke first. "I'm sure the Doctor's fine. Knowing him he's thought of ways to sort out the whole situation."

"That's what I'm afraid of. All that time telling us not to re-write history."

"And the old man does it himself?" Ian laughed and she joined in for a moment.

"I think the Doctor knows better than to change history. He'll probably bluff his way out the way he did during the French Revolution."

I gulped. What did they mean about changing history and why were they joking about something called the French Revolution? And anyway it was the first I'd heard of it. I ignored my concerns for a moment and listened harder but Porthos and Aramis were talking loudly which distracted me from my task. I strained harder to listen.

Barbara cuddled herself for comfort. "I think d'Artagnan's suspicious of us. I think they all are a little but he is especially. Oh I wish he could trust us."

"Was he this suspicious in the novels?" Ian raised an eyebrow as if in confusion but I was the one who was confused by the whole thing.

"We're not in a novel, Ian, this is real life. These musketeers are real, not pages from your storybooks."

Ian sighed heavily. "I just don't understand it, first Camelot, now…"

Barbara nodded and gently stroked the man's arm. "I wish they could understand that we're not trying to betray them. I can see they think we're up to something."

"I thought d'Artagnan was going to guess it when I didn't want to use that gun. I didn't want to, Barbara. I didn't want to pull the trigger."

"I know Ian, oh why must everywhere we go be so violent?"

I continued to listen carefully but their words made little sense. They spoke as though they were outsiders, so unfamiliar with our way of life, but they also spoke with a familiarity of other things, like they knew upcoming events within France itself. Was there a danger? Were they the enemies? Would they betray us? Were they sent? There were so many questions and not enough answers. I listened again.

"One of these days we'll land in a place without the danger and without the worries of meddling where we're not supposed to," Barbara said.

"Yes," Ian chuckled. "That'll be the day the Doctor finally gets us home."

Barbara sighed. "That'll be lovely, for now however we have to rescue him and we have to stay on our guard. We're on the side of the musketeers but how long will they be on our side?"

Ian shuffled uncomfortably, adjusting his tunic and looking around hoping that no-one was listening. I averted my eyes. "It was the Doctor's fault that I even dressed like this. I knew this musketeer uniform would get me into trouble but once the charade begins, it's difficult to end."

I stared dumbfounded. Yes my suspicions had always been there and yes it was clear something was amiss with these two strange people and yet somehow I was still shocked at this declaration. The strange musketeer was no musketeer at all, he was just a strange man, someone from a place I did not understand, and he posed as one of us instead- that was treachery in my mind. But his bravery, his loyalty- that was unmistakable, and that was very much like a musketeer. I felt bitterly disappointed.

I didn't know how to approach this problem and I didn't want to interrogate them just yet, after all, this wasn't the first time we'd been aware of betrayals or plots or people working with us as allies who knew more than they let on. But this was also not something that could be ignored either. Would I tell the others what I had heard? There was still an old man in danger but was he really a victim or simply a decoy or was all of this simply a trap for which we were being led closer and closer like animals to the slaughter?

Athos, Porthos and Aramis were waiting for me to get saddled up and as usual I was always the last to get ready despite being the most eager to get things done. Athos approached me and tapped me on the shoulder. "Are you ready to leave, d'Artagnan?"

I pulled him aside, our backs turned away from the couple. "Athos there's something you should know, the strangers are not who they say they are."

"Porthos says the same thing but what does it have to do with our mission? An old man is still in danger."

"But what if the old man's kidnap was staged? Listen, I heard them talking, they admitted they know things."

Athos looked over at Ian and Barbara as if trying to read them. "We remain vigilant. Let me tell you about our back up plan in case those two are not the friends we think they are."

"I want to believe them, they saved my life. They saved all our lives. Why would they do that if they wanted to betray us?"

Athos placed his arm around my shoulder. "You must keep an open mind, d'Artagnan, don't condemn unless you know all the facts, but keep both eyes open."

…

"This road up ahead seems the place," Porthos called back to the rest of us as we made our way across the countryside as the day turned to dusk around us. "And we better make it quick. We need to get away before we lose daylight."

We rode toward a hill that surrounded the castle and knew it wouldn't be a comfortable journey to the top of the mound. When we reached a suitable distance from the castle, we decided to leave the horses and walk the remainder of the way. I helped Barbara off of her horse and we all bent over and made our way quietly toward the castle.

"Looks like something out of Frankenstein," Ian said pointing to the castle.

"Frankenstein?" I asked, none the wiser to the name.

"Never mind." He looked at Barbara and they shared some kind of joke between them again, sharing that telepathic connection once more.

Barbara looked on with concern. "Well I'd rather visit it on a school trip than on a rescue mission. Are you sure this is the headquarters?"

"We've been here before," Porthos said. "Lots of rooms. Aramis knew the location of most of the girls' rooms blindfolded!"

We all let out a laugh. Aramis was rarely offended and smirked. "Well we must all have a talent."

I looked toward Barbara who had her arms folded in protest trying not to let out a smirk herself. "Oh really?"

"Don't worry Barbara, I was always invited." He winked directly at her, giving her that charming smile he gave all the young ladies and even occasionally the men.

Ian was clearly anxious to get on with the job of rescuing the old man and told us so urgently, ignoring Aramis' flirting.

"Who made him king of the musketeers?" Porthos asked gruffly.

"I'm sorry," Ian said, turning back upon hearing Porthos' comment. "I'm just worried about our friend."

"Well he is your father," Athos said, pronouncing 'father' vividly. "I suspect you would be slightly anxious."

"Well a true musketeer pushes through the anxiety," I said, hoping to produce a response from Ian but he simply looked down and acted as though he hadn't heard the statement.

"Aramis and I will take the back," Porthos said.

"I think d'Artagnan, it'd be best if you take Ian and Barbara and go by the side route straight to the dungeons. We'll hold off everyone else," Athos said.

"What about you?" Barbara looked at Athos.

Athos adjusted his gloves and smiled broadly for the briefest of moments. "I'll take the front door of course."

…

As the others embarked on their chosen routes, I kept a close eye on the strangers. I was certain their goal was the same as mine, to rescue the old man, but my fears that they themselves were luring me into a trap didn't leave my mind. When I was around them, I always felt left out, like a third wheel and there was something about the two of them that made them seem connected somehow. They did not announce any sort of courtship but I had rarely seen two people so close and so in tune, they seemed to bring out the best in each other.

It was strange that Ian was not a musketeer, for though he made many mistakes and his outlook and strategy was different than my own, he was a fine person to be a musketeer and possessed many of the right qualities for the prestigious role. Where his weaknesses lay, Barbara seemed to have the strength to counteract them and where she was weak, he had the capability. When Ian was angry, she seemed to calm him and when she was frightened, he seemed to be the right comfort. They were like two halves of a whole.

We hovered outside the entrance where Ian and Barbara were in some sort of silly disagreement which almost seemed unbelievable given how close the two of them were.

"I think d'Artagnan should go first." I heard her say. She held Ian back with her hand. "He has more experience than you."

"But Barbara!"

"But Barbara, nothing! You let d'Artagnan in first."

He smiled at her and placed his fingertips to his head in which I could only gather was some sort of military salute. I supposed that was his way of teasing her. "Your majesty," he said to her as I sighed impatiently and led the way past them and left them to follow on behind.

It didn't seem that unreasonable to assume the lady was a real life queen or duchess, she certainly had the beauty, grace and intelligence and held herself very well, but I wasn't particularly interested in their games during a rescue mission.

I heard the two of them still talking behind me as we ventured toward the entrance. "Would you be quiet?" I said rather forcefully.

"Very sorry, d'Artagnan," Ian replied.

We slowly crept into the castle and made our way down several walkways until we saw two guards posted by the entrance to the dungeons. Porthos had been held prisoner there once before so I knew the way like the back of my hand.

"You think the Doctor's down those stairs, where the guards are posted?" Barbara whispered.

I nodded and grabbed my sword, ready for action. I paused patiently, waiting for the right opportunity to move forward and strike.

"And the plan is?" asked Barbara who now looked ill at ease and pale and wasn't certain what the best course of action was.

"Fight," Ian and I whispered at the same time. We both looked at one another in astonishment that we'd agreed on something. Where Ian had been reluctant to fight earlier, he now was certain it was the best course of action.

"I'll take one guard- and you the other, Ian."

"Don't kill them," Barbara pleaded. "Try not to kill them. Knock them out or something."

Ian followed Barbara's advice almost immediately as when I glanced at his position; I saw a vase crash down upon the back of the head of the guard. As the guard I was watching, heard the noise and came to investigate, I sprung out of my hiding place to surprise him. Our swords linked together and we were deep in the fight, him struggling to keep up with my legendary talent of sword-fighting.

Just as I had lured him into a false sense of security and made him believe I was tired, something else happened. Barbara too, had also assumed I must have been tired and weak, and being the woman I now knew her to be, she wanted to help. Before I had time to stop her, to remind her I was a musketeer and knew what I was doing, she'd raced forward and hit the man over the head with another ornament. He fell to the floor instantly and I wondered where all these vases seemed to come from. The strangers seemed to have a knack of using every day objects to aid them rather than the tools we learned to use during training. I didn't know whether to congratulate them or laugh at the absurdity.

I felt a little irritated by being unable to finish the job however as I was enjoying my fight immensely. Sword-fighting was as much an art as a task and this fight coming to an abrupt end before I'd shown my true skills felt a little unsatisfying. But Barbara and Ian were different. They showed no desire for heroic fighting and the true art of combat. They did the deed in as minimal time as possible as though it were simply a chore and not honourable in the least.

"Chesterton, my boy!" came the voice of the old man as he saw the three of us come into view as we entered his dark and cramped prison cell.

He had called him Chesterton and not Chesterville, another lie!

Ian and Barbara rushed to the Doctor's side and embraced him in a strange three-person hug. There were arms all over the place.

"Oh Doctor, are you alright, we were so worried?" Barbara could barely express herself through the emotion.

"Thank you, my dear but I'm perfectly alright, just bored and hungry. These degenerates only fed me gruel, honestly I'm wasting away." The old man patted his stomach just in case we didn't believe him.

Ian patted the old man on the arm softly. "Well, let's get you out of here as quickly as possible and then you can worry about eating."

I approached the man they called the Doctor and bent over to examine him. "They didn't harm you old man?"

The Doctor took a deep breath and it was clear he was fatigued but otherwise unharmed. "No, no, they just shut me in here like a caged animal. Not very hospitable captors I must say. I didn't manage to get much out of them aside from a grunt or two."

Ian pushed me forward lightly as some form of introduction. "Doctor, this man helped save your life," he said. "His name is d'Artagnan and he is a musketeer."

I stuck my hand out for the Doctor to shake but he began laughing instead- his body moving up and down in a peculiar fashion.

"Oh very funny, dear Chesterfield, very amusing but who is he really?"

I was not in the least bit amused and also why was the Doctor now calling him 'Chesterfield', just how many aliases did this man have? I knew they had all been lying to us but it was also now abundantly clear they were not father and son. How many men called their sons a multitude of different names, all beginning with Chester?

I stepped forward again. "I am d'Atagnan, a musketeer. Do I have a reputation I do not know about?"

The old man frowned, the laughter ceasing immediately as he looked at me. "Ah well I do apologise dear fellow. I have heard of you but I never expected to meet you in person. I say, you're not with fellows called Aramis, Athos and Porthos are you?"

His expression changed immediately when he said it and he started laughing again and this time a high-pitched giggle escaped him like some kind of screeching animal.

"Yes they are in the castle too," I said glancing at him with suspicion, wondering why he found everything so amusing when he was held captive in a castle and had been through a terrifying ordeal.

The Doctor's face suddenly fell in surprise, another emotion rushing across the face that changed rapidly as the blink of an eye, and he glanced at Ian and Barbara. There was that same unspoken language between them- this time for all three strangers.

"I suggest we go now," I said, leading the way out of the entrance to the dungeons. "Introductions with my friends can wait until later."

I watched as Ian and Barbara helped the old man to the door and stood either side of him as some sort of protective shield. Despite his fatigue and health, the old man stood proudly like a peacock and the woman moved gracefully like a swan. We led the way from the room in silence and up the stony steps toward the entrance where we hoped we would not encounter any more guards.

Outside we instead ran into my friends who were eager for news of success. I embraced Aramis and then let go when I realised he still had a nasty wound on his shoulder.

Aramis protested. "Watch the arm, though it's slightly worth it to get a cuddle from you."

I laughed, slapping him on the other shoulder heartily.

"I see you've found the old man," Athos said approaching us breathlessly. "And he is unharmed?"

The Doctor looked Athos up and down, taking in his appearance. "I am quite alright my dear Athos. A bit tired and hungry but I will be quite happy to see the back of this castle."

He hadn't revealed he was the one called Athos and so I wondered how the old man knew. Perhaps he was a wizard after all.

There wasn't any time for further discussion on the matter as Athos and Porthos led the way with myself and Aramis taking up the rear. The old man was a slow walker and it took his young companions quite a time to quicken his pace.

The family they claimed to be, the group of mystery travellers, they truly supported one another, reminding me so much of the friendship and support I had received by the three musketeers when I had first joined. I sensed they'd too built a relationship out of hardship, faced adversity together and such roaming thoughts made me doubt they were family for all their lives, after all Ian was not a musketeer- that had been a lie, what else did they keep secret from us which in turn I now kept secret from my friends? Now the Doctor was rescued what would happen? Could they still count as allies? I saw no sign of the trap I feared it to be.

We left the castle grounds, pleased with ourselves that we'd managed a rescue mission without even having to defend ourselves or fight for what we wanted. These Eagle-men had strong beliefs but good fighters and defenders they were not. I wondered how long it would take them to realise we were gone and how long it would take for them to try again, to try to capture one of our own.

…

As we made our way back to the forest, it was clear that dusk was turning into night and we'd need to find a place to sleep. We rode until it got black and then we made camp by the river. We didn't know what the morning would bring but as I tried to sleep, my mind raced with thoughts about these strangers. I looked over at them, huddled together, heads touching as they slept soundly and peacefully, their cares drifting away with the night. I had grown fond of them and I didn't want to believe they were on the side of evil, they couldn't be. They may have not been truthful with us but I was now sure that it was with the best intentions and that really all they had wanted was to rescue an old man who they called their friend.

The next morning as we left the camp and headed due north, the strangers knew exactly where they were heading for and we found ourselves at the precise location where we had first met the previous day. The trip back had been a silent one, no-one in the mood for conversation after the journey and the exhaustion of yet another successful mission.

As we got off our horses and shielded ourselves from a sudden downpour of rain, the musketeers and I were surprised when at the same time our eyes were drawn to that of a strange blue box hidden behind some foliage. The box was taller than any of us, even Porthos who we often joked was some kind of giant, and the box was wide too. It had two doors on the front and almost looked like a gateway to another land. There was writing on the top but I didn't understand what it meant. The strangers walked toward it as if they did know, and each patted it gently in turn as though greeting it like an old friend.

My eyebrow rose in surprise. "Perhaps its time you explained who you are," I said.

The Doctor shuffled on the spot and nodded at Ian and Barbara as though allowing them to explain what had happened.

"We're not who you think we are," Barbara said.

Porthos laughed. "Now, there's a surprise. We never believed that the captain would have just let you join us."

"Then why did you help us and play along?" Ian asked.

"The threat was real," Athos said. "A threat which is known to be against the king, we couldn't take the risk, and besides you seemed like nice people."

"We only lied because we had to get the Doctor," Ian said. "We didn't intend to let it get so out of hand. We're just passing by."

"So why were you pretending to be a musketeer?" Aramis asked.

"I found the costume and it seemed to just fit," Ian said. "We didn't have much time to think on it."

I was intrigued. "Do you often arrive in new places and adopt new identities?"

The three strangers looked at one another and Ian let out a chuckle. "It happens more times than you would think."

"So, your Doctor was in the wrong place at the wrong time, assumed to be an acquaintance of ours and spirited away?" Athos asked.

Barbara sighed. "Wrong place at the wrong time could be written on each of our gravestones."

"So you're travellers?" Porthos asked. "I knew there was something different about you."

I agreed with Porthos. The strangers were unlike anyone I had ever met. "Where will you go to now?"

The Doctor gripped his lapels proudly. "Not knowing, my dear musketeer is the best journey of all."

I stared in astonishment as the three of them opened the doors to the peculiar blue box and they clambered inside, waving goodbye as they did so. I laughed. How exactly did they think they were leaving us inside some kind of cupboard?

Aramis' eyes rose high with amusement. "Very cosy indeed."

"Bit of a tight squeeze isn't it?" Porthos shouted as they closed the door behind them.

We waited for them to come back out again but there was nothing. For a moment or two the box just remained still and quiet. As I approached it however, I touched the doors and they seemed to be vibrating, as though they were alive somehow. I shuddered and told the others to join me. We each stood on every side of the box, holding our hands onto the wood and sighing in disbelief at what we could feel beneath our fingers.

And then it happened- the thing that's hard to explain- the thing I still don't believe myself. As we stood with our hands on the solid box, it began to fade away until it was no longer solid and was merely a ghost of its former self, transparent, and getting fainter and fainter. There was an eerie wheezing noise accompanying it as it disappeared completely so that the four of us stood facing each other in a square, our palms still raised and touching what was once solid but now simply the air around us.

"What happened here?" Porthos said, suddenly feeling very embarrassed at the image of the king's musketeers standing in a square formation, touching something that wasn't there at all.

"We speak of this to no man," Athos said quickly. "Imagine the fuel it'd give the cardinal if he thought we'd witnessed witchcraft."

"Who do you think they were?" I asked. I still couldn't believe what we had seen.

My friends did not reply for they had no more answers to the question than I did. These strangers had arrived, got caught up with us and then left as quickly as they'd appeared, like phantoms in the night. Who were they? Why were they here? Sometimes in life there were mysteries that could never be explained.

One thing was certain however, was that Ian was indeed a very strange musketeer and that day had been a very strange day.

…

Epilogue

Inside the safety of the ship, the Doctor and his friends laughed at their encounter with the famous figures they all knew from the stories they had read. Ian tapped the Doctor on the shoulder. "What was that about no one would notice?"

The Doctor avoided eye contact with the young school teacher and bristled at the question. "Mere coincidence my boy, all it is. I couldn't have predicted that."

Ian puffed his chest out, taking one last look at his costume in the mirror before it was time to change. "Still it was nice to get to play at being a musketeer, it was quite fun in the grand scheme of things."

"Well maybe next time we can find out where exactly we are before we play dress up," Barbara said. "Playing a musketeer may have been glamorous but who knows where we'll land next. I don't want to be arrested for treason."

The Doctor chuckled. "My dear Barbara, that's all the fun of travelling. If you haven't had a king or two ready to lop your head off then you're not doing it right."

Ian and Barbara looked at one another and then burst into laughter.


End file.
